Pig Roast

Daddy and Peyton enjoying the ferry ride to the island

Peyton enjoyed his first ferry ride and pig roast on Saturday. The Smith's generously invited us to attend their pig roast party out on Anderson Island. It's only a short drive and quick ferry ride away from Olympia and it is always a peaceful getaway when we are there.

Peyton and I checking out The Pig

I didn't quite catch on as to whether or not this was an annual event. It's definitely an ordeal and by the way they orchestrated the event on Saturday, it was evident that they've at least done this enough to have fine tuned all the details. We had a great time. The pig wasn't too bad either.

The Pig - Roasting

Once again we enjoyed a brief, but lovely time with close friends who now live far away. One big blessing about moving back to your home town is that friends pass through often enough when visiting their own families, that we get to keep pretty good tabs on them. Sam and Tyson are two of those great guys who always make time for a visit with The Russell's while passing through town, between adventures. Steve and I love it. Their company is always a welcome surprise (I say surprise because they don't always give us much warning for their visits). I think we love not only our time with them in the present, but also the time to hear about their travels. Both have traveled the world and are constantly heading off on a new adventure. Steve and I like to live vicariously through them.

Chillin' with Uncle Tyson.

Here's another mommy telling moment. Steve says to let it go. I will, try anyway, after I share this quick story.

Peyton was perfectly happy the entire afternoon. Despite the very hot weather, the new environment and the house full of new people, he was genuinely happy. In fact, he was so happy he would join in and giggle when we laughed and regularly clapped (mostly at the roasting pig) to share his delight. This intrigued his new audience, the clapping I mean. He's gotten so that he will clap not just independently, but when you say "yea" he understands it to mean "clap" and so he does. As the afternoon progressed, one party-goer in particular was interested in this on cue clapping and, well, I think the story at this point is predictable. It was kind of funny though. In a slightly annoying sort of way.

Bedtime was upon us before we knew it. While naps are always a crap shoot when we are out and about, Peyton is usually a good little sleeper at night, no matter where we are. Hopeful, we set up his pack-n-play, did the bedtime routine and put him down to sleep. Admittedly, the conditions were not ideal, but we held onto our hope. Loud cries are not unusually when we first put him down and leave. They just usually don't last more than a few minutes. Peyton was evidently, not on board with our plan. The cries continued.

Despite the rumors, it was NOT an hour! But it may have been as much as 45 minutes that Peyton screamed. What some party goers didn't see was that Steve and I took turns going in to soothe him to sleep during that time. (Why do I feel the need to justify my actions to strangers?) At any rate, we decided around 6:30pm that our pig partying was recent history and we began to pack up to go home. As I headed in to get Peyton, one lady cornered me and while I probably chose to hear her question differently than she intended, can you blame me? Really? How can a new mother, who herself is hot and tired and completely frustrated, overwhelmed and feeling horrible about her tired and almost inconsolable baby, not take offense by the untimely interrogation of a perfect stranger? She questioned every fiber of my being with her question, "Are you the mother of the baby who's been crying for an hour?" Obviously I am. And you're obviously a concerned mother. So, obviously you've been in my same position at some point. So again, is this obvious question really necessary? And as if that wasn't enough to really upturn my emotions and stir up the mother guilt, she hollered across the room to a friend, "This is the mother of the baby who's been crying for an hour." So there. That's me. Worst mom ever. Nice to meet ya. I hope they felt better knowing who I was because it sure didn't make me feel any better. Rather than scream first and defend myself second, which is what I wanted to do, I smiled sweetly. My blood boiling. My pride crushed. I nodded and kept walking. I took the high road. Well, sort of. I may have cursed under my breath a little bit, ready to be done with them. My heart now heavy with guilt, I retrieved my son. It was definitely time to leave. Dazed, but thrilled to have escaped the sleep prison, Peyton reappeared at the party briefly to say his thank yous and goodbyes. Somewhat relieved that I hadn't caused too much damage to my son (he was once again performing his tricks for an audience), I whisked him away to the car. Then, in the car for less than 1 minute, he fell into a deep sleep. That turkey!

The sunset on the way home.

Slight hiccup in the plan aside, it was a wonderful outing. The quiet drive home was peaceful. Crawling into bed, exhausted, but much earlier than anticipated, was awesome!